Valentine's Day
by MarcoLover16
Summary: I hate Valentine's Day.


A/N: Done through Marco's point of view, though I think you could probably figure that out as you read. I hope you enjoy and review :)

Okay, first of all, there really is no point to Valentine's Day. Let me just start right there. Everyone is always saying how it was invented by the Greeting Cards' company to sell. This isn't really true because…well, I'm not going to bore you with that story. It has nothing to do with my life anyway. I hate this Holiday, plainly and simply. Why is this problem? I'd be happy to answer that. My boyfriend happens to absolutely enjoy the horrendous holiday. Yes, my boyfriend Dylan Michalchuk, loves Valentine's day. It's hard to believe, I know.

Right, so here's my problem: I can't just go on hating the day peacefully because my own boyfriend wants to celebrate it. That's fine. He's entitled to his opinion, but noooo, he needs to spend it with me. I hope someone sees where this sob story is going.

Let me explain. Dylan told me that….no, sorry, he asked me what I wanted from him. I, of course, told him I would not be celebrating the damn thing. I believe my exact words, though, were, "I don't need anything, baby,"

He was completely unsatisfied with my answer because, by telling him I didn't 'do the holiday', I made it so much worse. He then wanted to show me how wonderful the holiday was and I was no longer just getting a gift. Oh, no! I was now getting a whole truckload of things in addition to dinner and whatever else he could think of before the evening. I could have told him to not make a fuss and to save his money because he was wasting it, but…if you could have SEEN the look on his face…

I agreed only because of that; not because I like the holiday.

That's in the past, anyway. Now, as everyone should know, I'm going to be celebrating the world's most…

Christmas! Christmas is a really nice holiday. (A/N: I LOVE Christmas. I hate Valentine's too…anyways!) That Holiday holds a POINT. Anyways, I'm done complaining.

Right now, I'm in the store, searching for something to give Dylan. I know. I know, this is CRAZY. I have absolutely every thought in my head about how to just sneak out of this some way, but he would know my true reasons and he worked so hard. I'm a nice person and boyfriend. I wouldn't do that. The main problem is I can't find anything he'd like. Candy's a safe bet, but not good enough for him.

Thankfully, my phone interrupted this pathetic search of mine. "Hello," I said, sighing.

"Hey, Marco, are you quitting on me?" It was Dylan, of course.

"Wh" I checked my watch. "Oh!" I said frantically. "No, I'm sorry. I really wasn't thinking about time. I'll be right there, but I feel the need to tell you now, I was in the process of getting your gift, but not only does everything here suck, but the remotely good stuff is not even near my price range."

"Don't worry about it," he waved it off. "I don't need anything, but you…which is kinda why I need you."

"I'm coming, babe."

I guess the reason Dylan never knew about my 0 interest in Valentine's Day is because we'd never been living together. Okay, I suppose we had my eleventh grade one together, but Dylan didn't have enough time to leave school. He was busy. Hey, I didn't blame him. He was busy. I didn't care at all.

No, I didn't need him because I liked Valentine's Day. I needed him…well, because I needed him. I didn't get him, though.

I finally made it to the apartment and, upon opening the door, was blown away. Everything looked beautiful.

"I had barely enough money left to take you out, but I figured this would be close enough."

Okay, I may not be a fan of the holiday, but I am a sucker for true romance. I smiled.

"Baby, you cooked?" Usually, actually, always, that was my job. Dylan was never put in the kitchen.

"Well, yes and no." I supposed I was about to find the reason why he was never put in the kitchen. "You see over there?" he pointed to the sink where there were a pile of white—well---at one point, they were white—dishes.

"Yes…" I answered slowly.

"Well, that's the dinner I made," he laughed. "A bunch of burnt plates. Don't even ask how I managed it, only I could. After the third failed attempt, I enlisted Ellie to help me."

I laughed. I walked over to where Dylan was sitting, wrapping his arms around him. Dylan kissed me lightly.

"Thank you for trying. Let's eat."

So that is, indeed, what we did. I was very glad Ellie helped him, (I'm assuming she made almost the whole thing) It was absolutely delicious.

It wasn't really the food I was interested in, though. It was how he was staring at me, not having eaten a single bite.

"Hi?" I said uncertainly.

"What been your favorite age so far?" he asked, completely out of the blue, if you asked me.

"I guess this age, nineteen. Dylan, what"

"Do you think it would be too girly to give you a ring?"

"Honey," I reassured him, "I AM girly. "You have a ring for me?" I smiled sweetly.

Just because I was eating a nice dinner that I didn't have to cook, being spoiled rotten by the love of my life, and getting a ring, did not mean I was enjoying the holiday. Oh, no. I'm sorry, dear Saint Valentine…Valentino, whatever your name was, but your holiday is still on my naughty list.

"Yes, I do. However, you'd have to accept the charges," he answered.

"Charges?" Umm…okay, so he wanted me to pay for it?

"Well," he opened the velvet box and the beautiful band shined across the dim-lighted room. "You'd kind of have to marry me."

My mind went black for a moment…way MORE than a moment. I think I actually lost said mind. Did he say that five letter word I believed I heard? Could my hearing really be that bad? I guess the ten minute silence was completely killing my boyfriend because he had looked terrified to begin with. Hell, I'd better say something.

I cleared my throat soundly, trying to kill all the butterflies inside my stomach before they flew out of my mouth and into Dylan's face.

"I—I definitely accept those charges."

He smiled ecstatically after he processed my answer. He threw his arms around me just as mind flew around him. I'm guessing we were both completely in a daze because we barely noticed or cared that we'd fallen on the floor, everything on the perfectly set table falling beside us. We just laughed.

We kiss, of course, as anyone would do in this situation. Engaged? Oh, this felt so good. He kisses me again, all the while muttering how much I mean to him. Sure, I was scared of marriage. I always had been, but this felt so right. I know I'm crying and I don't even try to cover it up.

"Oh," he said softly, "by the way, the ring wasn't your gift. I have more for you out in the car." He loved me, this boy. "Happy Valentine's Day," he smiled.

Okay! Okay! Listen very well right now because I will never repeat this statement. Dear old Saint Valentine…well, okay…and my readers…I guess…Oh, jeez. Valentine's Day, I guess, is okay… There. Whew, it's OUT.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Dylan. I love you."


End file.
